Today, I retained my job with the U.S. Census. Ordinarily, this would not be something of note, but yesterday I was informed that I might be FIRED FROM MY FEDERAL JOB.
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I come to you, dear citizens, in a moment of great pain, and ask you all to do your part during this terrible blizzard. My Suggestions? Today I’ve opted to provide to you, the very fortunate reader, a review of various chemicals and how they felt in my eye. After painstaking research and lots of running into things given my now-very-limited depth perception, I bring you this, a review of the chemicals that have been in my eye today.
Excuse me, could I perhaps have a minute of your time? You see, I had a bit of an accident, and now I appear to be– well, I guess you can already see for yourself. Anyway, I was wondering if you could maybe… oh, of course, I see you are on the phone, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I can just wait until you’re finished… oh, it’s going to be a while, is it? In that case, sorry to have bothered you, I will let you carry on. 1. I don’t rinse things before I put them in the dishwasher. It’s called a dishWASHER, people! Rinsing things is what it DOES! You don’t roast something over a fire before you put it in the oven, do you? That’s like parking a car in your bedroom so you can drive to the car in your garage. Now, it’s true that I don’t have a bedroom, but I do sleep in my car. You might think that, when your favorite NFL team is leading by 11 points with two minutes left in the game, it might as well be over. Surely, they’ve got it “in the bag” now and you can safely switch channels, right? You might think that, but that’s because you root for a GOOD team. Or, to use the term favored by Buffalo Bills fans, a BORING one. On 11 August 2009, William Kostric protested President Obama’s town hall meeting in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. He held a sign reading “It is time to water the tree of liberty!”, and legally carried an unconcealed handgun. In the media frenzy (mostly over the weapon) that ensued thereafter, Kostric says he has been struggling to make clear that his sign was not making a direct reference to the entire passage written by Thomas Jefferson in a letter to William S. Smith in 1787. Jefferson’s words were: The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is a natural manure.
In Ancient Greece, few dramas were more tense than this exchange of sharp words and swords between a pair of rival playwrights. Their story remained lost to history until the relevant documents were plumbed out of the depths of an Egyptian portopotty. It is supposed that they were deposited there after being discarded when an Achaemenid used them as first reading material, and then toilet paper. The fabled woods of Nor are usually filled with the chirping of birds this time of year. Yet in the clearing near the Tree of Infinite Truths, no creature dare stir. Sitting upon the roots of the aged elm sits the Tree Guardian, a powerful dimension traveler, the wrinkles of his years resembling the sacred bark he rests his back against. Nature itself respects the elder’s meditation. So… I have returned from behind the Great Firewall, a bit shorter and a bit more slanty-eyed, and with the distinct inability to pronounce words like “bus” and “campus” without inserting a mysterious “r” sound after the “u”. In China I learned many things, from how to properly use a car horn while driving (as a signal that there is something within 50 feet of the front of the car), to how to avoid getting hit by a child happily cannoning streams of urine into the street. Two months of endless diarrhea at the hands of Wuhan food, all of which contains loads of chili peppers, coupled with the inevitable circumstance that non-potable tap water would somehow end up in my stomach, have turned my rectum into the strongest muscle in my body, and lost me about 15 pounds. A week in Beijing renewed my appreciation for being able to see more than half a mile in any direction. Two months in Wuhan, where heat indexes routinely cleared 120 degrees Fahrenheit, renewed my appreciation for more temperate climes. Okay, that last bit’s not true at all, Pittsburgh weather is still comparable to diving into an olympic-sized pool full of mayonnaise-filled water balloons. I think the point of all this is, the Chinese are awful at English. |
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